


Public Display of Affection

by mattygroves



Series: Here in California 'Verse [4]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: DADT Repeal, Fluff and Angst, Harry Connick Jr shows us the meaning of romance, M/M, PDA, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, floating donuts, so many acronyms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 11:56:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7531867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattygroves/pseuds/mattygroves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aiden Ford comes to visit and Rodney is annoyed that all of John's friends are so hot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Public Display of Affection

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer, I've never been in the military, but I did my best to research the relevant info--please let me know if I've made any mistakes. The scene with Heightmeyer is based pretty closely off my own experience, just substitute US Military for Fundamental Religious Upbringing™

The stars were just coming out on a clear, hot summer night as Rodney and John floated in Teyla’s pool, bellies full of burgers and beer. It was a Saturday. Teyla and Kanaan had put Torren to bed and the baby monitor hummed quietly near where they relaxed on the pool steps, leaning back, legs intertwined. Ronon Dex, a friend of John and Teyla’s from the gym, floated aimlessly in the deep end on a few stacked pool noodles, and John’s visiting friend Aiden Ford, lately of the USMC, was stretched out on a skinny raft. Rodney had commandeered the inner tube designed to look like a donut, and John was using it as a pillow, one arm stretched across Rodney’s abdomen, letting his legs float freely behind him. Rodney had lost count of how many beers John had thrown back, but he was kind of a lightweight, so it was probably somewhere in the neighborhood of three. Rodney knew he had those beers to thank for John’s lazy public display of affection.

“I’m definitely the Han Solo in this relationship,” John muttered into the donut, picking up the thread of a familiar argument out of nowhere.

“Well, I refuse to be the Princess Leia, so you can shelve that couple’s costume idea, mister,” Rodney said under his breath.

“Why?” John whined, “Leia’s the best. Smart mouth and nice ass, just like you.”

Ford laughed, long and hard, letting Rodney know that everyone could hear their conversation through the still night. Rodney was just glad it was dark and they couldn’t see how red he turned, or the glare he shot at Ford. He liked Ford well enough; he was a nice kid. A nice, good looking kid who was currently crashing on John’s air mattress downstairs. Why did all of John’s friends have to be so fit and good looking? Ronon Dex, all height and muscles, it was ridiculous. Teyla, gorgeous and lean with short curls framing her high cheekbones. Even Ford, with his face half scarred by an IED in Afghanistan, ranked a much higher number than Rodney’s broad forehead and receding hairline.

John just turned his head slightly on the inner tube to grin at Rodney. Later, upstairs in John’s bedroom, divesting themselves of wet swimsuits and showering off the chlorine—which took awhile because showering together opened up opportunities for other pleasant activities—Rodney fell face first into bed in a pair of clean boxers. John was toweling off his hair when he came back into the bedroom.

“You do have a nice ass, you know.”

Rodney grumbled wordlessly into the pillow.

“I’m serious,” John said, finding boxers for himself.

Rodney expected John to fall into bed beside him and turn off the small bedside lamp that gave the room a comfortable glow. Instead, Rodney heard the slow beat of a snare drum, followed by jazzy piano.

“Oh no,” Rodney said, sitting up as the singing started, “You are not seducing me with Harry Connick, Jr.”

“Don’t leave me hanging, Rodney,” John pulled him out of bed and held him close, swaying with the music. Rodney begrudgingly let the stiffness in limbs fall away as John ran his hands up and down his arms, pulling them around his waist. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I like you.”

Rodney nodded into his shoulder, mumbling, “It’s really annoying that all your friends are so hot.”

He could feel John’s chuckle rumble into his own chest. “Listen to the song, Rodney.”

Harry was repeating the bridge that led into the last chorus: ‘I only have eyes for you.’

“God, when did you get so sappy?” Rodney smiled, snuggling closer as the song ended and they swayed in silence for a moment. 

“It’s all that beer you kept plying me with at Teyla’s.”

“Oh, so that’s how we’re playing it, now?” Rodney said, pushing John onto the bed and enacting his revenge.

Rodney was wrenched out of sleep later that night by a panicked shout, followed by the sounds of sobbing. John was out of bed in a flash, taking the stairs two at a time. Rodney’s heart was pounding in his chest as he followed, catching sight of John with Ford in his arms as he reached the landing. Even in the dim light seeping in from the street lamp, Rodney could see that Ford’s face was wet and sobs shook his body as John rubbed his back.

“I got you buddy, you’re safe,” John was saying in a quiet, calm voice, “You’re safe, Aiden, okay?”

Rodney quietly made his way back to the bedroom. Ford didn’t know him that well and he didn’t want to interrupt. He didn’t fall back asleep, so he heard John come back in a few hours later, felt him sit heavily on the bed before curling on his side facing away from Rodney. Rodney wasn’t sure what to do, but John didn’t pull away when he put a tentative hand on his arm, so Rodney curled around him, pulling him close until his breathing slowed and he drifted off to sleep.

John had already made coffee when Rodney came down to the kitchen in the morning. He’d began buying caffeinated coffee for Rodney after their second date. Rodney pounced, pouring himself a large mug and gulping it greedily.

“Ford?” he said, trying to sound casual.

“He borrowed my bike. Exercise helps. He agreed to see my therapist at the VA, so that’s a good start.”

“You have a therapist?” Rodney spluttered. “I didn’t know that.”

“I go Thursdays while you’re at work,” John said, his face shuttering. “If that’s a—”

“We’ve been together for four months and you never mentioned—”

“It’s been a lot better. It shouldn’t affect you.”

“Not really the salient point here. What if something happens and you need my help? I have no idea how to help you.”

John looked genuinely surprised for a moment before training his face back into a neutral expression. “You could come with me sometime.”

“Yes,” Rodney was taken aback; he’d expected John to shut him down. “Yes, okay. I’ll talk to Elizabeth about taking a few hours off on a Thursday. Should be fine.”

“Okay,” John said, sounding like he was holding his breath.

“Okay,” Rodney said, relieved to hear John’s exhale. “You have this whole life I know nothing about.”

“Rodney—”

“I should have asked, that’s all.”

“I never told.”

Rodney took another drink of his coffee, to help him feel grounded again, to fill the silence.

“I have coffee with Teyla once a week,” John volunteered after awhile. “Usually Tuesday or Wednesday mornings.”

“I fucked up at my last job and they offered me the choice of here or Siberia. I’m really glad I chose here.”

“Okay,” John said, his eyes started to lose their hunted look, “I think that’s enough sharing for one morning.”

“Thank god.”

John turned his attention back to the bacon and hash browns he had sizzling on the stovetop, and a moment later Ford came back from his long bike ride, sweaty and seeming more relaxed.

“Smells amazing,” he said, clapping John on the shoulder and surveying the pans appreciatively. “Gonna hop in the shower, feel free to start without me.”

“How many eggs you want?” John asked.

“Three. And hey, Dr. McKay—”

“You can call me Rodney.”

“Just wanted to say, sorry. About last night and everything,” Ford did his best to look nonchalant, but mostly he just looked uncomfortable.

“Don’t worry about it,” Rodney said, flattening his mouth in what he hoped was an encouraging smile.

“Cool. Thanks.”

The rest of the day could’ve been a lot more awkward, but John rounded them up to play softball at the park with Teyla’s family, Ronon, and a few other people from the gym. Rodney and Torren watched from a blanket under a shady tree. Normally Rodney would have complained about being stuck with the kid, but he was glad to be saved from making adult conversation for a while.

John had a lot of time to think over the next few days, which wasn’t necessarily a good thing. Rodney was in the middle of a big project, so his boss Elizabeth Weir had given him some time off a week from the coming Thursday—which meant even more time to stew over the idea of Rodney joining his session. He got Ford an appointment with Dr. Heightmeyer for Tuesday and drove him up the street to the VA. John had been around long enough to know some of the other guys in the waiting area. He introduced Ford, and they chatted while Ford did his best to put on a tough face. John remembered that feeling; it was only five months or so since he’d first come through that door.

And now he had to think about coming through that door with Rodney. What that would mean for him. It would change things for both of them, sure, but that wasn’t what was eating away at John as he sat there, chest tightening and palms sweaty. The feeling lasted until his own session Thursday morning.

“How are you, John?” Dr. Heightmeyer asked.

“Fine.”

“You seem upset about something,” she said, indicating where he was gripping the arms of his chair. He let go and flexed his fingers.

“Okay,” he took in a deep breath, “I kind of invited my boyfriend Rodney to come to one of my sessions, and now I’m thinking that might not have been such a good idea.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“Everyone would see him, the people in the lobby—and then they’d know.”

“That you’re gay?”

“Yeah.”

“And why would that be a bad thing?”

“Because,” John searched for the words, focusing past Dr. Heightmeyer out the window, “They’d know.”

She waited a moment to see if he would add to that, but when he didn’t she continued gently, “John. Do you realize this is the first time you’ve brought up Rodney as your boyfriend?”

“I’ve talked about Rodney before.”

“Yes, you have. But you never called him your boyfriend. You’ve never mentioned before that you’re gay.”

“I guess I’ve kind of talked around it a lot,” John said sheepishly.

“Yes. Why do you think that is?”

John glanced around the room, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re in a military facility,” he whispered conspiratorially. Heightmeyer smiled.

“When DADT was repealed, did you come out to anyone?” she asked.

John squirmed, “It wasn’t that simple.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything, John. I simply wanted to point out how difficult it must have been for you to keep such an important part of yourself hidden for so long.”

John didn’t have response to that.

“And I want to assure you of two things,” she continued, “I don’t judge you, okay?” She waited until he made eye contact and nodded. “And you aren’t alone. I talk to many veterans struggling with how to live after being closeted for so much of their military career.”

“Okay,” John said.

“In fact, we have a group for LGBT veterans that meets Monday evenings. I’d like you to consider joining us sometime.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Okay. Tell me more about Rodney. As your boyfriend.”

John tried to hide his grin at the thought of Rodney, and failed miserably.

When he came back with Rodney the next week, he was still nervous, his hands drumming restlessly on the steering wheel as he drove.

“For the love of god, please stop that,” Rodney said.

“Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. And yes, also Canadian, thanks for noticing,” he replied to the smirk John always got when his accent became prominent. Rodney took his hand and held it on his thigh. John let it go as he pulled into the spot, out of habit. Rodney seemed to understand that the VA wasn’t a place for PDA in John’s mind. John could see him pulling himself up to his full stature, ready to face the hyper-masculine world of the military industrial complex. Fuck that, John thought, taking Rodney’s hand again and leading him inside.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you thank you so much for reading. As you've probably gathered, this story is pretty personal for me, so I really appreciate any thoughts you feel like sharing in the comments :)
> 
> Have a poem ("Wild Geese") from Mary Oliver to make you feel better:
> 
> You do not have to be good.  
> You do not have to walk on your knees  
> For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.  
> You only have to let the soft animal of your body  
> love what it loves.  
> Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.  
> Meanwhile the world goes on.  
> Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain  
> are moving across the landscapes,  
> over the prairies and the deep trees,  
> the mountains and the rivers.  
> Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,  
> are heading home again.  
> Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,  
> the world offers itself to your imagination,  
> calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --  
> over and over announcing your place  
> in the family of things.


End file.
